The Immortal King

Chapter III

THE KING AND THE SLAVE GIRL

Something about Helena's dream felt all to real; as if she was reliving a memory. Experiencing the situations and emotions, but with no control over anything.

'Asran! Hurry up we have to leave,' she stated flustered; her brows furrowed and her lip being chewed by her teeth. Her hands were making fast work of throwing her winter clothes into a sack. Meanwhile, Kalan just sat back and watched her work, a smile permanently plastered on his face. Helena noticed the way he smiled at her and watched her endearingly. She also took note of the way she kept calling him Asran. Whoever this Asran was he looked identical to Kalan.

'Calm down Hadassah, we have the rest of our lives to be together.' Helena felt herself being encased in his arms, before a gentle kiss was placed on her forehead, leaving her a little shocked. Quickly shaking him off, she returned to her frantic packing. She felt panicked, but also a resentment bubbling just below the surface. As if he could sense her anxiety, Asran walked over and placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders. He took a moment to embrace her, and and she instantly relaxed into his arms. The anxiety subsided for just a moment. Asran's seemingly permanent smile faded, 'I promise that I won't let them take you back ever. You will never be a slave again.' Hearing him call her a slave, Helena instantly went slack in his arms. 'I promise.' Pushing him aside, she wrapped her arms around herself. Tears spilled down her cheeks, a strange sense of stillness washing over her. 'Asran that's not.. I mean I'm not... I know who or what you are.'

She watched Asran slump and heave a sign of annoyance or maybe exasperation. She couldn't quite tell. His hands racked through his hair and he sighed again. From what Helena could tell, this Asran or Kalan was trying to formulate an answer. Trying to explain things to her. He was struggling though. Despite his clear struggle, Helena felt the resentment growing in her again. It was making her sick with anger. Her voice was louder this time, 'Asran I said I know who you are!'

Once again, Asran says nothing, his face showing almost no emotion, his brain frantically calculating what to say.

'Say something!' a scream ripped violently through her throat and her crying grew more violent; still Asran did nothing. As if her anger had bubbled over, unable to be contained any longer she burst out the door of their cabin and ran into the woods surrounding their home. Her feet carried her quickly and methodically through the forest on memory alone. She had walked or ran this path many times before. She was heading somewhere familiar, a safe haven, a sanctuary.

'My safe place.' Her mind repeated back to her, sensing her questions. Her feet didn't stop until she had run far from her home and into a clearing with a crystal lake at the centre. In seconds her heartbeat had calmed and her breathing slowed. Instead of running she took slow steps towards the water, taking her boots off to dangle her feet in the water. Closing her eyes she breathed in the fresh air and serenity of her sacred sanctuary.

Suddenly, she felt an immense pain in her back. Something forcefully pierced her skin, cracked her ribs and tore through her flesh until it was protruding out her abdomen. Or moreso what was left of the bloodied mess of shattered ribcage and bloodied flesh. Shock. Confusion. And fear hit her all at once. Her hands shook as she looked down at the bloodied stick protruding out her abdomen. The blunt stick was clearly an improvised murder tool, but had somehow been thrust into her back with such force in had shattered her bones and torn her flesh.

'Good riddance slave girl! Asran will finally be free of you!' The voice of her murdered hissed in Helena's ear. Then, just as violently as the stick was thrust into her, it was pulled out, and whoever had stabbed her vanished.

Her body slumped back as she lay next to the water. The amount of pain she felt was immeasurable. Then she thought of Asran and how she had run from him. How much pain would he feel when she didn't return? Would he think she had run from him forever? That she was scared of him? Or worse that she didn't love him? With a sudden urgency she screamed his name.

'Asran!' she screamed, certain he couldn't hear her but desperate to have him by her side when she took her final breath. 'Asran!' she screamed again, but her was voice quieter this time. It was growing more and more painful to just breath; screaming was an excruciating ordeal.Willing herself to go on she prepared herself to scream one last time, until she saw Asran's figure run to her side.

'Please Asran, don't let me die! I'm so sorry I got angry at you. I'm so sorry I left. We're suppose to run away together, we are suppose to get on the boat tonight and go to the Northern kingdom. We were going to get married and grow old together. Or at least I would have! And as much as I hated that you never would have at least I would have lived my life with you by my side,' she sobbed, adrenaline feeling her, as Asran lifted her limp body into his arms, cradling her like a child.

Looking up into his golden eyes, she watched them begin to water.

'Don't say things like that Hadassah!' Asran chocked through his tears. 'You're not going to die, we are going to the Northern kingdom tonight and once we get there I'm going to explain everything to you.' Her breathing grew ragged and she started gasping for air. Asran clung tighter to her body.

'Please Asran...gasp...don't let me die like this...gasp,' held in his strong arms she felt safe. If she was to die at least she would die with him holding her, cradling her dying body.

Her crushed ribs and failing lungs were all too painful. They were ready to give out. He breathing had become shorter and shorter.

'I would give up my immortality, my divinity if it meant keeping you alive.' Asran cried, clutching her body as tightly as he could. 'I would sacrifice anything for you.' Asran cried as she went limp in his arms.

'Anything?' Helena heard her murderer's voice call to Asran as she lost consciousness.

A scream ripped through her throat, sending her bolting upright in bed. Helena frantically looked around her, no longer in her dream world, and no longer in the dungeon. She now found herself in an extravagantly decorated bedroom, laying on an exquisite golden bed with deep navy, woollen sheets.

Hearing her screams, Kalan bolted into the room. Since he had locked her in the dungeon he had been worried sick for Helena. While his feelings for her previous reincarnation were far from positive, Helena herself had done nothing to hurt him. The worst thing she had done was act like a poorly disciplined child. When he looked into her eyes he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of hatred, anger, resentment, love, compassion and heartache.

Taking Helena in his arms, she stared back at him sceptically, but then relaxed into his arms and clutched onto him tightly. Her entire body trembled. Kalan pulled her closer to him, and for once he was thankful for the instinct inside of her that said she could trust him. He certainly hadn't proven that to Helena yet. 'What's the matter Helena,' he spoke far too sternly, and for a second Helena cowered away from him. 'I'm sorry,' he spoke more gently, ' please tell me what's wrong.' Once again she relaxed back into his arms.

'I- I ha- I had a dream, or a nightmare. You were there. I was killed. I died in your arms Asran.' Shock shuddered through Kalan's body. Nobody had called him Asran in millennia. Not since his first love Hadassah died.